Light Up Your Life With Islam

Posts tagged ‘poetry’

Gone with the Wind

Sometimes when I’m alone, I let my imagination run wild,
My mind wanders through deserts, I let the sand be my guide

I hear the hooves of horses, impatiently stamping the ground
They wait for the command of the leader, awaiting just a sound

I see in the eyes of warriors, bravery and determination
Their fearlessness comes from fear of the Master of creation

They conquer land upon land, pursuing no personal gain
Persia, Rome, Egypt, all for establishing Allah’s name

I also see the rulers in streets of these great kingdoms
Dressed in rags, nothing to eat, yet their hearts brim with wisdom

Both rich and poor of the nation, lead such simple lives
Working for an honest penny, they don’t know the meaning of lies

I see seekers of knowledge everywhere, thirsty and eager
Striving to learn night and day, though resources are meagre

One man travels 700 miles, just for listening to a single Hadith
He does not have a car or camel, he travels without any ease

Corruption and dishonesty, their dictionary has not these words
Muslims they are, they submit, they do not mock or curse

Pleasing the Lord of the Worlds is their only goal
They do not bow in front of humans, free are their souls

Suddenly I snap out of my vision, I wake up to today
‘Where have those Muslims gone?’, I cry out in dismay


*This poem was first published on


Future of the Past


The one sitting dejected and forlorn,
The day has ended and night for him is long,
Reminiscing what he did in his life,
Racking his brains for a deed good and bright,
Alas! He fails, looking woebegone.

The society would do nothing but shun,
He fears humiliation, in which his insides would burn,
If only on his deeds he had never reflected,
Still drowned in evil, at least not neglected,
But no, he’s confused, where to turn?

Wait! Does he dread a bleak future of his past?
He fears people, of being an outcast?
Does he not know of the only place?
Where mercy and hope wipe out disgrace?
Tell him of the One whose haven is too vast.

To Whom if you turn He feels more happy than the man,
Who loses his camel in the waterless desert land,
And when that camel returns with the water and food load,
Joyful, the man says, ‘O Lord, Thou art my servant and I am Thine Lord’,
Did you ever hear of love more than that?

So repent to Allah and cry your heart out,
Prostrate in front of Him, promise to submit throughout,
Your past would be cleared as if it has no stain,
You may even become His favourite slave,
Contented you will be without a doubt.

From the slavery of people and this world break free,
For they are weak, when needed they flee,
Be His slave, from evil and sins abstain,
You will slip and fall; He will pick you yet again,
Forgiveness is all you have to plea.

Real ‘past’ is this world, in which if you fail there is no return,
True ‘future’ that awaits is heaven or hell which will burn,
So prepare for the future that will stay forever,
Regret now, for later regret will be bitter,
Let go of your past, make hereafter your concern.

Hajrah. :)

Road to Future

P.S. Is poetry stalking me or what? O_O
A few months back I had nothing to do with poetry whatsoever (except a poem I wrote in school), and then things happened so fast. :P
So yeah, we got this one as an assignment, topic same as the title of the post, at university. 

Six Feet Below and Beyond

Written for Shifa Inter-Scholastic Tournament ’13 on the theme same as the title.


When it will all end,
And your body will lie without a friend.
Your world gone to pieces,
Your parents, siblings, nephews and nieces can do nothing and their helplessness only increases,
Tears flow from their eyes but even that rush finally ceases.
And your soul is ready to ascend.

It’s taken wrapped up in a clean shroud smelling of musk,
With warm welcome, the doors of each sky opening up,
Until your name is written in the `illiyeen line-up,
And the soul is ordered back to earth where it belongs,
You hear your friends leaving you alone.

But what if your soul is not welcomed at all?
Wrapped in a sackcloth with a smell so foul,
It finds the gates of the skies closed and now can’t even howl,
The name is written in the sijjeen out and out,
And the soul’s hurled on the earth until it joins the body freaked out.

Now it’s your choice, dearie!
In which category would you like to be?

In which a person lived his life benign,
Submitted to God, prayed on time,
Helped people, repented from crime,
Endured hardships, only to get reward from the divine?

Or the one in which the person partied hard and danced all night,
Forgot his Creator, kept his hands closed tight,
Never bowed in front of Him, who never did anything right,
His clothes and cars were a dazzling sight.

Whichever life you choose my brothers and sisters,
In the end you’ll face three questions,
Irrespective of your family, status and education,
You won’t get through them on your speculations,
Your worldly achievements won’t count,
When your success or failure is taken to a count.

Who is your Lord is the first one.
Did you His obedience shun?
Would you be able to answer Allah, my Rabb?
‘Cuz there your answers can’t be made up.

Who is your Prophet comes next.
Did you follow the sunnah?
Did you even know the text?
How many times did you lose your sleep?
Did your feet swell? In your tahajjud did you weep?

Last but not least, what is your deen.
Do you even know what it means?
Did you live as a Muslim or just took it as a dream?
Did you spread it to the world, this beautiful deen?

While you lie in your grave forsaken and alone,
Based on your deeds a window will be shown,
You’ll catch a glimpse of gardens underneath which rivers flow,
With palaces whose towers with gems glow.
Or based on the bad deeds you have sown,
Great tongues of fire will make you moan,
And gusts of hot air will be blown,
The sights you see will chill you to the bone.

Don’t take this just as a rhyme,
But prepare for that time,
When you’ll lie six feet below begrimed,
And what will happen beyond…


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